June has been a challenging month. It is one of my favorite months of the year, but this June has been different. The world continues its days of isolation and exclusion and in my private life some things have been shaky. But let’s not talk about that.
June is the softest of the summer months. It is a month of hope. And of flowers. Daisies, climbing Morning Glory, Snapdragons and Violets.
It is a month of white birds heading to sea, pastel sunrises while people sleep and boats leaving port to sail the ocean blue. It is a time for bonfires and picnics, summer dresses and pink lipstick smiles hiding secrets you will never know.
It is the start of the summer holidays. Family time, friends being away, melancholy… Late night barbecues and pop songs you will remember for the rest of your life because of some annoying refrain and memories of tipsy crowds singing those annoyingly catchy lyrics out of tune.
It is a time of nostalgia…Childhood summers and first crushes, grandparents and late night parties. It is a time when the world hits pause and lets its inhabitants do what they want for a while. But not this year. This year is different. The world has been on pause for over a year and no one can do what they want.
We are all tired. Tired of iron fists keeping us from what and whom we love. We are so tired of pulling the leash that we almost rather want to take the risk of running across the busy freeway just to feel that we are free to run again.
I miss those summers. The summers when I was free to do what I wanted. Even if it was just to lie down in a meadow and smell the June Blooms. Because it was my choice, and that is what makes all the difference.